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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27759346">Every End Is A New Beginning</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicLoveCrime/pseuds/CosmicLoveCrime'>CosmicLoveCrime</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluid Sexuality, Investigations, M/M, Manipulation, Mental Instability, Non-Consensual Drug Use, On the Run, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, season 4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:47:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,897</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27759346</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicLoveCrime/pseuds/CosmicLoveCrime</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the demise of the Red Dragon, Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham are missing. Whilst they are in hiding and navigating the fall out from that fateful night, Alexandra Taylor, an FBI prodigy, has been called in to investigate. Her connections to the two killers and her personal struggles create their own problems in catching the wanted men.</p><p>Will Alex be tempted to embrace the darkness with the two or will her goodness prevail?</p><p>********<br/>This is a post-fall continuation fic, introducing a new protagonist who is caught up in the hunt for Hannibal and Will, who are figuring out their lives on the run.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hannibal Lecter/Original Female Character(s), Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Long time reader, first-time writer. I’m by no means a great writer but I’ve had this story in my head and just needed to get it out there. So, if anyone actually gets some enjoyment from it then that’s great! I'm terrible at writing summaries and tags!  Basically, this story focused my OC Alex who is (HEAVILY) inspired by the backstory of Clarice, but I didn’t want to limit her (or my writing!). </p><p>Rating may change, currently at M for violence but that's me being cautious! </p><p>Now on with the story….</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alexandra Taylor stepped out of the SUV and took a deep breath, the crisp sea air filled her lungs. It was early morning and the sun was just rising across the Virginian coastline. A gentle breeze caught her dark brown hair and she quickly pulled it into a ponytail using the hair tie on her wrist. After collecting her forest green jacket from the car and waving a small thanks to the agent in the driving seat, the young woman proceeded to walk purposefully through a maze of law enforcement officials. As she grabbed the police tape with a gloved hand, making a movement to lift it up, to enter the crime scene, an officer grabbed her by the arm.</p><p>“Sorry ma’am, only those who are authorised are allowed beyond this tape.” The uniformed man informed her in a bored tone, stopping Alex in her tracks.</p><p>“I am authorised,” Alex frowned at him. “Jack Crawford requested my presence.”</p><p>The young woman raised the FBI issued badge that was hanging around her neck and gestured it towards the officer.</p><p>“I’ll have to check. Only those on the list are permitted to access the scene.” He explained condescendingly. “Of course.”</p><p>“Of course,” Alex replied flashing him a fake smile through her annoyance, knowing full well that her badge permitted her onto such scenes without fuss.</p><p>“There’s no need Officer Jenkins,” Agent Crawford strode over to her with a deep frown on his face.</p><p>Alexandra gave a small shrug of her shoulders to the officer and ducked under the yellow tape, continuing her path onto the crime scene.</p><p>“Alex.” Jack Crawford, Head of Behavioural Science at the FBI, held out his hand to greet her.</p><p>“Jack.” She shook his hand briefly.</p><p>“Good to see you,” the older man attempted a smile that looked more like a tired grimace.</p><p>“And you, although I would have preferred an invitation to grab a coffee to catch up rather than a crime scene.” Alex replied.</p><p>She snapped her attention to the commotion behind the man. Nine other agents wearing the standard FBI issued navy jackets hovered around the scene. They looked as if they were about to pull their hair out in frustration, or conducting heated arguments about the events precluding the bloody murder scene in the middle of the courtyard. The chalked outline of the dead body in question belonging to the infamous serial killer the ‘Tooth Fairy’ or ‘Great Red Dragon’ whose file Alex had spent the three hour long car journey memorising.</p><p>“Let’s cut to the chase Jack. Why am I here? I’m not even part of Behavioural Science, I never have been.”</p><p>“Despite how many times I’ve pushed for an application from you.” He gruffly remarked. It was no secret that Jack had attempted to recruit Alex onto his team many times since her first case that he mentored her on. Her breakthrough and subsequent lone field work led to her becoming the youngest agent ever to receive the FBI Medal of Valour.</p><p>“We’ve spoken about this.” Alex thrusted her hands into her coat pockets, as she noticed the chill in the wind nipping at her fingers.</p><p>“You’re here because I trust you and your judgement. You have an innate talent for this. Probably better than half of my team.”</p><p>“Excuse me!” An offended dark haired man looked up from the pool of blood he was gathering test samples from. Jack waved his hand in dismissal.</p><p>“Okay, enough flattery.” Alexandra rolled her eyes.</p><p>“I need people I can trust right now Alex,” Jack Crawford suddenly looked all of his fifty-odd years. The young woman’s face softened from its usual cold and aloof demeanour, dark brown eyes filling with concern. Her once mentor was close to the figurative edge. She could not only see it, but could feel it. He was at a complete loss.</p><p>“I’m here Jack. I’m no Will Graham, but I’ll do what I can.” Alex touched his arm gently as she walked past him. She could do this, for Jack. For the countless times he pushed her into applying for the intimidating roles, supporting her outlandish conclusions on cases, and standing up for her when it counted. Despite the strain at the time, Alex knew it was all an endeavour to make her a better agent. To rightfully earn her place. So for him, she would make herself delve into the darkness once again.</p><p>“You’re as close as we’re going to get to him now,” Jack sighed.</p><p> </p><p>The view from the bluff was quite stunning. Across the Chesapeake Bay there was a blur of land, however that wasn’t what the young agent was looking at. The dark whirl of the sea beneath the cliff-edge was Alex’s focus. ‘<em>The only way is down</em>’, she thought to herself.</p><p>“For whatever we lose, like a you or a me, it’s always our self we find in the sea” the young woman whispered to herself.</p><p>“E.E. Cummings.” A sharp male voice broke through Alex’s call of the void, making her jump slightly.</p><p>“I’m sorry?”</p><p>“The poem.”</p><p>“Oh, yes.” Alex turned to meet the disrupter. She was a bit perturbed to have been so deep in her own thoughts that she didn’t notice the other agent approach.</p><p>“Harry Davies.” The tall man was in his mid thirties. His mousy hair was hidden from the wind under a baseball cap with the, not so subtle, yellow FBI letters brazened on it. He was smiling at her.</p><p>“Alexandra Taylor,” Alex’s cold stance was back, making no attempt to hide her displeausre at the interruption. It was simply the polite thing to go through the motions of introductions.</p><p>“I know. Something of a legend aren’t you. What Jack wouldn’t give to have any one of his team trade roles with you. How is the Narcotics division treating you?” Agent Davies smile widened.</p><p>She cringed internally, she disliked being portrayed as some form of criminological prodigy. Annoyance also surfaced slightly at the mention of her current role. Alex had been told many times that it wasn’t the right fit for her. As Jack once said, her place was with Behavioural Science. The rhetorical question from the other man was met with no response, not that it stopped Agent Davies from digging further.</p><p>“So what’s your assessment, Will Graham?” He chuckled at his own joke referencing the former special agent who was currently missing as a result of the crime scene they were currently attending.</p><p>“I don’t think that’s appropriate given the circumstances do you,” Alex said disapprovingly as she walked past the agent, aiming for towards the house just past the courtyard that was painted red with blood.</p><p>“Probably not, but hasn’t stopped that lot over there from betting whether it will be yourself or Jack pushing you off the preverbal cliff edge.” He followed through her past the courtyard, glancing towards the numerous agents outside of the yellow tape.</p><p>“Highly inappropriate,” she reprimanded him. A small group of agents cleared the way, not daring to make eye contact with the young woman who was clearly on a mission.</p><p>The architecture of the cliffside house was modern, yet did not appear out of place in its rural surroundings; the windows gave the occupant a vista of the cold Virginian landscape. The cliff leading to the ocean on one side of the courtyard and the contrast of green land on the other. The central window was no longer there; in its place was a mess of shattered glass covering the courtyard patio. Alex and Harry stepped though the non-existent window into the open lounge area. The coppery smell of blood was prominent, even though it had been spilt a few hours previously. There was a dark patch pooled by the chair near the grand piano. Alex honed in on it immediately, stepping around numbered crime scene placards, she made her way to investigate the area.</p><p>“It’s Lecter’s,” a smiley forensic agent answered the unspoken question of whose blood it was.</p><p>“Barely any sign of a struggle.” Alex commented as she crouched down next to the spot. The dried blood was too exact, as if the wounded individual stayed there waiting to bleed out. Unlike the chaotic massacre outside which clearly displayed a struggle; a fight to the death.</p><p>“Judging by the gunpowder residue and marks on the opposite wall, I think it was a clean gunshot wound too, straight through.” The greying man informed her.</p><p>“So Dolarhyde got the jump on the cannibal,” Agent Davies commented morbidly.</p><p>Alex snapped her eyes to the man, her patience wearing thinner by the moment.</p><p>“If you insist on continuing to be both disrespectful and inutile, it would be better for all of us if you took on one of the more basic tasks. Perhaps start by making us some coffee?”</p><p>The forensics agent looked to his colleague on the other side of the room who was bagging up glass pieces from, what Alex deduced from the colour, was a broken wine bottle. They shared a silent laugh at the woman’s no-nonsense attitude and assertiveness.</p><p>Agent Davies put his hands up in mock surrender, “Woah there, just saying it how it is.”</p><p>“Well, you’re not. If you assume Hannibal Lecter allowed anyone to get the ‘jump’ him then you are not just wrong, you’re stupid.” The woman stood up, dusting lint off her navy suit trousers as a result of kneeling on the floor. “This was essentially a suicide mission, Graham knew that, so did Lecter. All they had to do was wait for the executioner.”</p><p>“But the executioner is dead.” The other forensics agent from the room, who had either had finished or abandoned the tedious glass task, joined in the conversation.</p><p>“I can confirm that. Definitely dead. Very much so.” The first forensics agent stood up from inspecting the carpet.</p><p>“I’m not saying they didn’t put up a fight.” She turned to the two to introduce herself, “Alexandra Taylor”</p><p>“Jimmy Price,” the first man declared, “this one is Zeller.”</p><p>“Brian. We’re mostly found chilling in the morgue.” The younger of the two jested.</p><p>“Nice to meet you both, I heard great things from Jack on the last case we worked on.” Alex nodded her head in greeting.</p><p>The man himself strode into the room. “So, what have we got?”</p><p>“Lecter and Graham knew that Dolarhyde was coming for them. They led him here.” Agent Davies said with conviction, as though any discovery following would not match that revelation. How wrong he was.</p><p>The other three rolled their eyes at the agent.</p><p>“Great, Agent Davies, I’ll be sure to relay to Assistant Director Perry that you have not progressed any further than criminology 101.” Jack Crawford was unimpressed as he stood with his hands on his hips in the middle of the airy room.</p><p>‘Hmm, so that’s who you’re working for. I knew you weren’t standard FBI.’ Alex thought to herself.</p><p>Having a separate agent sent by the FBI executive management was far from a desirable thing for the Behavioural Science team. It meant that something untoward was suspected, that they were not objective nor capable. ‘Well they wouldn’t be, wrong would they?’ She mused.</p><p>“Alex?” Crawford looked to the woman in hope.</p><p>“I wish it were not true, perhaps simply for their sake, but my judgement is that is very possible that they could have survived.” Alex declared, almost reluctantly. She felt in her gut that thinking Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham to have died was biased logic. Everyone on the scene wanted tobelieve it as it was the easiest explanation. The infamous cannibal killed and the erratic agent dying a hero, but Alex knew that the two were survivors.</p><p>The room erupted with a mixture of outrage.</p><p>“No surely not!”</p><p>“Don’t be stupid.”</p><p>“Shattered bones, not to mention the internal organ damage!”</p><p>The young agent stood rooted as firmly as her statement, making eye contact with Jack Crawford.</p><p>“You’re sure?” He asked, despite knowing the answer he was going to get.</p><p>“I wouldn’t have said such an outrageous thing otherwise. We can’t take anything concerning Lecter at face-value, you know that Jack.”</p><p>The older man nodded, turned away and ran a hand over his face in weariness.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Will Graham knew pain. Not in a self-pitiful way; in a simple matter of fact way.</p><p>He had been shot before, twice even, that pain troubled his movement to this day. He had been stabbed in the gut, that was unimaginable pain, so much so that his mind had removed any memory of the actual feeling. The headaches that were brought on by the encphaeilits were a burning pain, enough to drive one to madness.</p><p>All that was nothing compared to how he felt now.</p><p>“Come now, Will.” His partner in crime, Hannibal Lecter, half-carried Will against his good side. The ‘good’ side being the half of him that was not profusely bleeding, soaking his shirt with red.</p><p>“How?” The broken man almost sobbed.</p><p>“Do not question it Will. It is the cruel card Fate herself has dealt you. She is not done with you yet.”</p><p>Will Graham cried some more. They couldn’t be alive. ‘Can’t live with him, can’t live without him’a voice resembling Bedelia du Maurier murmured from his unconsciousness.</p><p>A flashlight shone brightly in their direction, blinding them in the pitch black darkness. Most people would have broken down in relief at this; a beacon of hope in the tumultuous, never-ending night. The two men did not feel this way, in fact the complete opposite. Both tensed immediately. Their minds had not communicated to their bodies that they were in no state to walk, let alone fight, whoever may be on the other side of the beach.</p><p>“This was not how I envisioned the Beast to escape his cage.” A softly spoken voice whispered in the distance.</p><p>“Chiyoh,” Hannibal breathed and his body finally gave in to the blood loss as Will slipped from his grasp and he lost consciousness.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Will wakes up after the fall and starts to come to terms with his actions. Alex is still searching for answers and recalls an impactful memory.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first thing Will Graham noticed when he opened his heavy eyelids was the movement to his left side. The former FBI Special Agent was unable to muster enough strength to move from his flat position to turn towards the shadow.</p><p>“Hannibal,” he spluttered. His throat painful from the salt water he inhaled from the unrelenting sea. The shadow, a woman, drifted into his eye line and sat in the small chair next to the bed.</p><p>“Drink,” Chiyoh demanded softly. She pushed a plastic straw to his chapped lips. Will obeyed and suddenly realising his thirst, gulped down the water rapidly. With his thirst now quenched, he proceeded to question his rescuer.</p><p>“Where is he?”</p><p>“That’s the first thing you ask. No, where am I? Or, how bad is it?” Her lips pulled up in a small smile to herself.</p><p>“Chiyoh!” Will groaned having had enough with all their mind-games.</p><p>“He is-” The raven-haired woman paused, searching for a term that would encapsulate the ordeal of the other man she had sworn to watch over. She settled on, “- alive.”</p><p>Will’s face contorted realising that was it, just alive. That was the least distressing thing Chiyoh could come up with. He hissed as the wound on his cheek pulled tight.</p><p>“I have stitched you up. Your face and your shoulder. The bruising on your ribs shall take a while to go and the cut on your leg from the rocks was not as deep as I initially thought. You’ll recover quite alright,” she added bitterly.</p><p>“Please Chiyoh,” he pleaded. He needed to know the extent of Hannibal’s state. Will would be damned if he had survived pulling them over a cliff, only to have Hannibal give up on him now. That would perhaps be the cruelest punishment of them all.</p><p>The woman turned her gaze window where the setting sun was colouring the view a burnt orange.</p><p>“I had to take him to a surgeon. One he advised could help.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“She said I should take him back to the ocean.” Chiyoh’s breath sharpened, she still refused to look at the man staring at her. “I made her do what she could regardless of that assessment.”</p><p>Will felt a tear slip from the corner of his eye. Hannibal would be fine. He had to be.</p><p>“The doctor managed to remove the bullet and close up the wound. Thankfully it did not rupture any organs. Many other wounds were stitched up. His right leg was severely broken. He will recover, however I will not be certain until he awakes.”</p><p>“How long has he been out of it?” Will asked and cleared his throat of emotion.</p><p>“So far? About a week, the same as you.”</p><p>“But?”</p><p>“She warned me not to get hopes up that he will wake. He lost so much blood and the surgery itself was touch and go at times.”</p><p>Will let out a shuddering breath and let the tears fall.</p>
<hr/><p>Alex Taylor sat in the makeshift FBI office at the location of Dolahyde’s murder. Agents were rushing around as they were finishing the final search for evidence of alive suspects, rather than those initially presumed dead.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> Everyone was exhausted; what should have been a couple of days work had now been a very long week.</span></p><p>After taking a deep breath, the young woman closed her eyes. Free from distractions, she allowed her mind to wonder.</p><p>Something didn’t go according to Hannibal’s plan. That much was certain. Yes, it was inevitable that a bloodbath would occur, he would’ve planned for that. But to jump off a cliff, that is not the exit that he would’ve gone for. It was too risky and not at all his style.</p><p>He was always three steps ahead of everyone else. Alex knew this from their conversations at Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. He knew where their discussions were going before she ever opened her lips in response. She would never say the words to another living being but she admired that about the serial killer. That unparalleled level of intelligence, awareness and manipulation. Alex shook her head and shivered in her seat.</p><p><em>‘</em>This is why I shouldn’t get involved,<em>’</em> she thought to herself.</p><p>Alex’s eyes opened suddenly, she stood up and walked back out to the crime scene. As she made her way back to the house her thoughts drifted even further. She had to work this out.</p><p>Will Graham was the key. That much Alex was certain of. Will didn’t go entirely to plan.</p><p> </p><p>********</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane - 2 years ago…</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why fixate on Will?” The young woman frowned at her notepad which was long abandoned in favour of the riveting conversation with ‘Hannibal the Cannibal’ himself.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You will have to expand further upon that question, Miss Taylor.” He gave her one of his coaxing smiles.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She uncrossed her legs, adjusted her suit jacket and leaned closer towards the plexiglass from the uncomfortable plastic chair the institute had offered her. Alex threaded a hand through her mid-length brown hair in frustration and then leant her forearms on her legs. She hung her head and took a deep breath.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This was all a game. ‘I’m just the naive trainee agent trying to make a break through on my first case, my walls are down. I’d do anything.’ Alex slipped into the facade far too well for her comfort. The strategy had proven to be foolproof in the past. If you make it seem as though you are one-step behind, especially to a narcissist, they will unknowingly give you the next ten steps, not expecting you to ever catch up. It is always satisfying to see the dots suddenly connect as they realised that it is not them who has outsmarted you, but rather you who has conned them with their own ego as they have spewed all the answers you needed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>However, Alex was increasingly finding that, despite his own self-grandeur, Hannibal Lecter was the exception to this. He played the game his way.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You know.” Alex sighed, looking up, bringing her dark brown eyes to meet his slightly maroon ones.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“How do you ever expect to obtain an answer from such a vague question?” Hannibal walked closer to the wall of plastic, piercing eyes on Alex. Almost mocking the young agent with the question, daring her to drop the trainee role she was playing and show her true ability.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Every neurone in Alex’s brain was firing, her sympathetic nervous system telling her to run. And yet all she did was stare back at the infamous murderer.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Really?” She raised an incredulous eyebrow.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>As if sensing the young woman was one comment away from leaving the room, Hannibal answered her initial question.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Many things about him fascinate me Alexandra.” His voice almost turned into a whisper. “Most of all the fact that I can never entirely predict Will Graham.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>********</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Alex fondly remembers her days as a trainee agent and has a decisive conversation with Jack about her future involvement in the investigation.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>‘Quantico FBI academy: the epitome of American heroism.’ Alex chuckled to herself as she pulled her car into a space. Jack Crawford had ordered her to report to the agent training ground rather than the Behavioural Science Division, for some unknown reason.</p><p>Well, that was a lie. Alex had her suspicions as to why Jack had requested her presence there. He wanted Alex in a familiar place, somewhere that might jog old memories of her ex-Professor Graham. The man who was the focal point of the on-going case. State-dependent memory could be a powerful thing sometimes.</p><p>Killing the ignition, Alex took her seatbelt off and remained sitting in the drivers seat for a moment as she watched the wind pass through the tall trees lining the parking lot. Taking a couple of deep breaths she opened the door and clutched her coat tightly to fight against the winters chill in the air. Alex grabbed her bag stuffed with notes on the case that she had been called in to work on and walked calmly to the entrance of the main building.</p><p>After making her way through security, the young woman’s former routine from being a trainee agent at the academy led her to a familiar place. Will Graham’s old lecture hall.</p><p>The auditorium was empty. Alex took a seat in what used to be her usual spot; the front row, right in the middle. Alex wasn’t exactly an eager student when it came to contributing to class, although somehow Professor Graham always encouraged her to debate. No, she preferred the front seat to avoid distractions of the other students, preferring to engage in a game of ‘who can avoid one another’s eye line’ with Professor Graham</p><p>Footsteps broke her ruminations. “I thought I’d find you here,” Jack Crawford sat down in the seat next to her and leant back in the chair. The two continued to stare straight ahead, not bothering to make eye contact with one another.</p><p>“Am I that predictable?” Alex huffed.</p><p>“No. Well, yes. I’ve been the same.” Jack said, folding his hands on the desk in front of them.</p><p>“The same? How so?”</p><p>“Wondering what could have been different. Wondering if he’d still be here.”</p><p>Alex felt a surge of anger at the hypocrisy of the statement, knowing the pressure and treatment Jack put the man under. “You wouldn’t have changed anything Jack, Will would have fallen into exactly the same path. You got the ripper, and now Dolahyde, that’s all you ever cared about. It’s quite common knowledge that you had little to no regard of what you put Will through. The only saving grace was he had a moment of what I hope was contentment before you dragged him back in to this twisted game again.”</p><p>An uncomfortable tension fell between the ex-mentor and his protégé.</p><p>“I’m not going to pretend to be sorry for any of that. We both know it's true.” She added. Alex was furious at her once mentor’s refusal to accept responsibility for Will Graham’s fate.</p><p>“I get it.” Jack sighed, placating the young woman.</p><p>Alex let out a heavy sigh and put her head in her hands. “Jack, I don’t know if I’m going to be any good here.”</p><p>“Talk to me. What’s going on up there?” The older man looked towards her with concern.</p><p>“I feel him. He’s clouding my vision. Making me second-guess my judgement."</p><p>“How so?”</p><p>“Doesn’t matter.” It definitely did, the taunts of Hannibal Lecter were haunting her, but Alex didn’t think it wise to disclose this to Jack. “It’s more the fact that since I walked onto that scene I can’t shake it. If I start this, if I work on the case Jack, I’ll live and breathe it. It will consume me.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>“No, you’re not Jack.”</p><p>“I will never be sorry for you breaking through on that case, you saved lives Alex. But I am sorry for putting you in a position where Lecter got to you.”</p><p>Alex frowned at that and felt somewhat offended. “You thought I was made of stronger stuff.”</p><p>“You are strong. You got through his manipulation in order to provide us with the information we needed. You’re the best we’ve got for this case, you get him.”</p><p>“Thanks Jack, that’s the highest compliment. ‘Hey Alex, you’re perfect for this as you can get into the serial killer-slash-cannibals mind.’” Alex sarcastically commented. “Anyway, he only gave me what he wanted, nothing to do with ‘skill’. It was for his own amusement.”</p><p>The young woman let that settle for a moment before resolutely declaring, “I can’t Jack, I’m too close. I don’t know what would be left of me when I go home. That’s not fair on Em.”</p><p>“I, of all people, know how hard it can be on a partner. But I know it’s the job. Emma of all people understands that too.”</p><p>“It’s technically not my job Jack, it’s a favour.” Alex pulled the thick folders out from her satchel and placed them in between the two. “This is three solid days work. I’ve pieced together what I can. That’s all I can do for you Jack. That, and the evidence from the beach should be a good starting point.”</p><p>She finally looked at the Head of Behavioural Science. His usual frowning face somehow looked even more dissatisfied than usual.</p><p>Alex got up from the desk she was sitting at and shrugged her coat on.</p><p>“If you change your mind-”</p><p>“You’ll be the first to know Jack,” she patted his hand lightly as she walked out of the lecture hall.</p><p> </p><p>********</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Quantico FBI Academy, 5 years ago…</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>“So, am I wrong?” Alex took a sip of her coffee from her styrofoam cup.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Will Graham raised an eyebrow in approval. Well, it was as close to any approval a person could get from the notorious ‘Grumpy Graham’ as his students had dubbed him behind his back.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Someone’s been reading more than the assigned papers.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The young brunette shrugged, and gave the professor a small smile. Alex enjoyed these conversations with Will, she was enthused when he challenged her, whereas most students became disheartened when he pushed back. Alex felt a connection with the professor, their main methods of communication were standoffish and often sarcastic in nature, this being borne from them both feeling like outsiders who had little patience for others. Alex and Will frequently had office hour meetings that ran into lunches or after the lights had gone off in the main building, although this had happened less so since Will had started working as a special agent on the Chesapeake Ripper case.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It wouldn’t hold up on a report or in a court room.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But the evidence is damning! Surely, you can see it! My profile is right.”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You can’t explain those jumps though. It’s bad practice.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You seem to be doing fine at it,” Alex teased the scruffy man, referring to his empathetic ability to put himself in the shoes of anyone, including serial killers, which is why the FBI currently had him doing their bidding.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I interpret the evidence," Will countered.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sure."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Whatever.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Will huffed a laugh. Alex inwardly congratulated herself for making the melancholic professor crack a positive emotion.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ll re-write it.” She gave in, Will simply nodded in appreciation.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Crawford's been asking about you.” Will’s tone changed as he busied himself with the papers on his desk.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The FBI trainee frowned in confusion, “As in Head of Behavioural Science, that Crawford?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Will nodded jerkily and proceeded with filing away essays into his satchel to grade at home. He was displeased when Crawford had brought up the trainee’s name after a meeting last week. Will knew Alex had promise. She was top of her classes, displayed a proficiency for combat particularly firearms, and had a strong grasp of profiling. He would almost say she matched his capabilities. Almost. Probably as close to someone without his level of cognitive empathy could get to his skill.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’ve peaked their interest, I guess.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And?” Alex prompted.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And what?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Well, why?” Alex questioned. “More importantly, what did you tell him?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I said you were bright but needed more time.” Will turned to Alex and shifted to lean back into his desk chair. Will harboured trepidation about her being put into the field. Perhaps it was because he wouldn’t wish the experience of staring at a mutilated body on anyone, let alone someone he had taken somewhat of a liking to. Maybe it was more because deep down he sensed an uneasiness about her, as if being in that environment would irrevocably alter her nature. ‘Or bring out her true nature’ a small voice in Will’s mind added worryingly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Meaning he wants me in the field. Why didn’t you say yes Will? I’m ready!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Alex,” Will sighed and put a hand to his forehead. “Once you see it for real, there’s no going back. It changes you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I know that.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You do, don’t you.” Will remembered the note on her file. The large, red, capitalised warning. It wasn’t unusual for witnesses or victims of traumatic events to turn to law enforcement or medicine as a career potential, something about wanting to right the wrongs they’ve seen or help those in a similar position to those that they could not help at the time. What was unusual was they typically don’t make it past the screenings, especially in a case such as Alexandra Taylor’s.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Alex threw her empty coffee cup into the waste paper bin in the corner of the small office. She knew this conversation was more than just about herself. “It’s getting better though Will, isn’t it? What’s the good in seeing that fancy psychiatrist if it's not helping?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Doctor Lecter and I have conversations. Officially he’s not my psychiatrist.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, I can’t imagine he’s within yours nor the FBI’s price range.” The young woman joked alluding to the fact that an outfit Hannibal Lecter wore on any given day was probably enough to have covered a semester of her college tuition. She had briefly seen him around the FBI buildings sometimes and was quite curious about the striking, well-put-together man.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Alex checked her watch and then picked up her backpack, “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Of course,” the man gave her a rare genuine small smile.</em>
</p><p>********</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Hannibal Lecter awoke with a start. His senses on heightened awareness, scanning his unfamiliar surroundings. An incredibly plain guest room whose owners had an unfashionable taste in furnishings in the colour green. He was located somewhere near the ocean, if the salt he could smell in the air was anything to go by.</p><p>The ocean.</p><p>Hannibal turned to look to the small drawer to his right, attempting to find something, anything that could be used to arm himself. The usually composed man let out a pained groan, acutely aware of the wound in his left side. Hannibal gently touched the bandage that had been placed there and tried to form some coherent medical assessment of his state.</p><p>Suddenly, the door to the small bedroom crashed open. There, in the doorway, stood Will Graham looking as though he did not believe what he eyes were seeing.</p><p>“Will,” Hannibal whispered pushing through the lump in his throat at the sight of man in front of him. His equal was alive. More crucially he was here, wherever <em>here</em> was. He was with him. They were together.</p><p>The man walked further into the room and fell to his knees onto the worn carpet, next to the single bed Hannibal had been situated on. Hannibal felt a calloused hand nervously touching his own, as if desperately seeking permission to be held but was unsure of the outcome. The older man clutched onto Will’s hand for dear life.</p><p>“I can’t believe you’re finally awake.” Will smiled at Hannibal through a tear that trailed down his face.</p><p>Hannibal's breath hitched. Never had he seen such a beautiful sight as Will Graham crying so unashamedly, and it was all for him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After removing herself from the case, Alex returns home and attempts to reconcile with the feelings the Lecter-Graham investigation has brought up. She also recalls a particular promise once made to her.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Hey honey,” Emma Addison greeted Alex as she closed the front door to their home and threw her keys onto the side. The agent roughly took off her coat and hung it up by the entrance before walking over to her partner who was sitting on the couch, watching some reality TV show Alex couldn’t care to remember the name of.</p><p>“Hi,” she sighed, running her hand through Emma’s golden hair and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.</p><p>“There’s leftovers in the fridge, I know you probably didn’t eat.” Emma offered Alex, following her into the kitchen.</p><p>“I’m not that hungry but thanks anyway,” Alex responded. She filled the kettle from the faucet and stared off into space while she waited for it to boil.</p><p>Emma had felt her girlfriend becoming more detached over the last week since the call from Jack Crawford. Emma, being an intelligence special agent at the Bureau herself, understood that some cases hit agents harder than others. However, it didn’t make watching Alex succumb to this one any easier.</p><p>“How was your day?” Alex gave her a small smile as she shook herself from her thoughts and made herself a cup of tea. She lifted the kettle up to Emma, silently asking whether she wanted one and her girlfriend shook her head in response.</p><p>“Same old. I’ll be happy once the audit from higher up has finished. I just wish they’d let us get on and do the work they’re supposedly checking you know?” Emma lifted herself onto the kitchen island and sat swinging her legs. Alex took her mug and walked over, leaning against the worktop next to her.</p><p>“Well, it’s got to be done.”</p><p>“I know. I know.” Emma put her arms around the other woman and manoeuvred her to stand in between her legs. She took a breath before she spoke the words she had been dreading to tell Alex, “Before we get into it-“</p><p>“Urgh,” Alex groaned and tilted her head up to Emma, knowing she was referring to the case.</p><p>“- we need to. But I have something to tell you first.”</p><p>Alex grinned to her girlfriend with a mischievously look in her eye. “You’re pregnant!”</p><p>The two laughed as Emma lightly shoved Alex. “Shut up!”</p><p>“You have to admit it sounded like that’s what you were going to say!”</p><p>“Aside from the obvious reasons!” Emma rolled her eyes and continued, “Caroline from Directorate of Intelligence has spoken about putting me on the fast track programme.”</p><p>“That’s great!”</p><p>“There’s a catch-“</p><p>“Oh -“</p><p>“They want me to start by assisting on the Lecter-Graham case. You know pulling together reported sightings, scouring through data, producing the case files.” Emma nervously pulled at a loose thread on her sleeve.</p><p>“I know what you do Em.” Alex sighed and pulled away. She walked over to the sink to rinse her now empty mug. “You’ve got to. It’s too good of an opportunity to miss because of my hang ups.” She reasoned.</p><p>“Don’t belittle it. It’s not a hang up. You knew them both.”</p><p>“Will, yes. But I wish people would stop making out that I was friends with ‘Hannibal the Cannibal’.” Alex used the moniker to add weight to her annoyance.</p><p>“Not friends, no. But you can’t deny the influence that coming into contact with him had on you.”</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alex crossed her arms and stared at the other woman.</p><p>“I didn’t mean it like that, shit.” Emma strode over to her lover and touched her elbows, trying to make eye contact to show her that she was being sympathetic.</p><p>“No, go on. It’s not like Freddie Lounds didn’t make enough assumptions at the time.” Alex was referring to the journalist sensationalising her visits to the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Freddie Lounds had woven an intricate story of Alex being the only one Hannibal connected with. The premise of her argument started from disclosures of disgruntled staff who had not heard more than monosyllabic responses from the infamous killer, but somehow the young woman had managed to coax him into speaking.</p><p>“Alex,” Emma sighed. “What I mean is, he got inside your head. Hell, he would anyone! He was a psychopathic psychiatrist! Hannibal Lecter taints everything he comes into contact with, he twists and darkens it. It understandably left a mark that would impact you and your work.”</p><p>Alex was about to add that she didn’t classify Hannibal as a psychopath, but she stopped herself from explaining the nuisances of that. No, it was much easier to stick a label on it, like many had done, and not reason or empathise.</p><p>
  <em>‘I guess that’s the trap Will fell into’ Alex mused.</em>
</p><p>Alex quickly stopped that train of thought when she noticed that Emma was waiting on a response.</p><p>“Yeah,” she muttered. “I know you’re right. Just makes me feel weak sometimes. Like if only I had stronger barriers maybe, I don’t know, I could be helping on the case.”</p><p>Emma wrapped her arms around Alex and kissed her neck, “You’re not weak. Not at all. And for all it’s worth I think you’re making the right call and I’m proud of you for that. I know it’s hard for you to walk away from this.”</p><p>She had no idea how difficult it truly was.</p><p>Alex turned her head to catch Emma’s lips and chastely kissed them. Before moving her hand to gently cup the side of the woman’s jaw and touched her lips once again, this time deepening the kiss. After a moment, the two pulled apart, slightly breathless.</p><p>“Upstairs?” Alex moved her lips to softly graze her girlfriends’ ear, as she tucked a strand of Emma’s hair behind her ear.</p><p>Emma gave her a smirk and wove their hands together. She pulled Alex and the two dashed up the stairs to their bedroom like lovestruck teenagers.</p><p> </p><p>Later that night, sleep eluded Alex. She laid in bed, her head was busy and muddled with several trains of thoughts, all running at once. Alex slowly turned her head to the side and glanced at Emma sleeping peacefully. Deciding she was probably not going to get any shut-eye, Alex silently slid out of bed. She made her way downstairs, tiptoeing over the creaky steps as quietly as possible as to not wake her lover from her slumber. Once she had reached the bottom, Alex walked to the study where she sat in a comfortable reading chair and switched on the lamp next to it. She sat there in the warm light trying to relax her mind until the sun had risen.</p><p>********</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, 2 years ago...</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Alex gave a silent nod to the attending guard as she walked into the room and lowered herself into a plastic chair that was located in its usual spot in the middle of the accessible side of the room. She placed the book she brought in with her on her lap and folded her hands over it, clasping them together in an attempt to steel herself. ‘God, I shouldn’t have come here. Not again. We got what we needed,’ her thoughts matched the panic in her heart.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Alex finally took a look through the plexiglass in front of her. Hannibal was at his desk sketching and made no sign that he noticed her entering the room. He did notice though, his curiosity was somewhat peaked as to why the young woman had returned to see him. He knew the information he gave them on the string of murders, which quite frankly Hannibal had found banal in their execution, was correct. He had read the arrest in the paper, so it couldn’t be that.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Alex understood that it was her who would have to speak first as the silence permeated the room, “How are you Hannibal?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He lifted his head slowly and looked directly at the trainee agent. The man made note of Alex’s appearance. She donned her usual smart trouser-suit attire, her dark brown hair was swept into a practical ponytail. The strong stance of her shoulders and stoic features reflected her sober professionalism and unsociable nature. A guard. A defence. The young woman reminded Hannibal of Will Graham in that respect, she had built up forts to not let others see the truth. But Hannibal could see, her dark eyes held the look of someone who had experienced what many would consider horror and continued to relive it behind those eyelids everyday, revelling in it before berating themselves for deriving satisfaction from such scenes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The exhaustion was clear on her face despite the tight small smile she gave him. She had learned early on that above all else Hannibal revered politeness, that was the key to get him talking.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I am very well, thank you Miss Taylor. What about yourself? I can imagine it has been quite a triumphant week for you. Jack Crawford must be pleased with you.” Hannibal straightened his pencil on the desk.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Alex ignored the subtle barb, he knew that the attention and praise made her uncomfortable. “I’m fine. Where are we today?” She motioned to the drawing he was working on when she walked in.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hannibal smiled at her, and agreed to fulfil her desire to make small talk. She would say what she needed to soon enough, he just had to be patient with her. “Paris, in particular Musee d’Arts de Nates. Prior to its expansion and subsequent redesign, of course. I remember being charmed by ‘The Three Shades’ there. I’m not usually one for sculpture, but I could not seem to take my eyes off of it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The three vigils intended to watch those who pass through Rodin’s interpretation of The Gates of Hell, I know it.” She looked past him towards the extensive book collection on the wall. “Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Identical figures, supposedly despairing for those who enter.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Let me guess, that’s not how you see it.” She challenged him, catching him in his own challenge to see whether she would acknowledge his particular phraseology.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His eyes lit up in amusement, “No, I respect the interpretation though. I rather focus on the anatomical distortion of the figures. Physical and emotional distress fusing them together, sharing an experience over and over that binds them for eternity. The attachment developed between the three would be unrivalled.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Pain as a social glue.” Alex stated quietly, trying to piece together what she was telling him. He was always talking in riddles, ones which Alex found a perverse enjoyment for breaking through. She held his gaze confidently before moving on, “I prefer Fugitive Love if we’re talking Rodin and Dante.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hannibal laughed, “Ah the fight against the inevitable demise of love, or rather lust. Although something tells me that the female figure’s appearance of a struggle to escape calls to you more. I always thought it quite a violent piece, definitely less romanticised than his more famous work. I wonder whether she ever did escape, Miss Taylor?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Alex shrugged feigning nonchalance, feeling she had given him too much insight already. She had.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I wanted to thank you,” Alex changed the subject. “For your co-operation on the case.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It was no trouble to make room in my busy schedule,” His eyes gleamed in amusement at his own words.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Alex slightly smirked at his remark. “Well, yeah. That was it really.” Suddenly at a loss of words.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I appreciate that you went to all the trouble to give your gratitude in person.” He bowed his head, almost mocking but not quite - Hannibal did enjoy the young woman’s presence and was the primary reason he strung along divulging the details for so long. She had potential.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Goodbye then, Doctor Lecter.” the young woman stood up and turned to leave. She was unsure as to why walking away felt like giving up a habit other people had condemned. Not because you wanted to, but because you knew it should be given up.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Alexandra.” He called.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Alex twisted on the spot and raised an eyebrow in question, so they were on a first name basis now. “Hannibal?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His eyes shifted to the book still in her hand. “Oh!” Alex touched it with her other hand and strode over to the small opening in the glass through which meals were passed. Hannibal walked over to meet her matching her positioning on the other side.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know you’re not one for the contemporaries but I thought if you ever fancied something different then you might enjoy this.” Alex rambled as she placed the book through the opening, conscious that they were closer to each other than they had ever been.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Thank you, Alexandra. I’m grateful for your thoughtfulness.” And he was, a chance to peek into her psyche. As they say, you can tell a lot about a person by looking at their bookshelf.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, I’ve read it to death, so it deserves to give someone else some enjoyment.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ah, her own copy. Even better. He made a mental note to look at the particularly dog-eared ones. Yes, he would cherish this parting gift.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s been checked, so don’t let them try to convince you that it must be taken away.” She half-joked knowing he would have no say in the matter.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Perhaps next time we meet you will join me for dinner. Until then, Miss Taylor.” Hannibal promised, aware that if she stayed any longer it would show her unintentional fondness for him. Something which he did not want an audience for as he thought about the security camera in the corner of the cell. No, that would not do.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A little perturbed at being abruptly dismissed, Alex walked away for good this time. Hannibal’s promise left an uneasiness in her stomach and not just because of the kind of dinner he was notorious for serving.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>********</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's been a month since the fall, Hannibal and Will have a discussion about what's next for them on the run. Will attempts to understand his feelings regarding Hannibal.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi everyone! This one's a shorter chapter focusing on Will and Hannibal, we'll be back with Alex in the next chapter and that's when the drama really starts - some really exciting stuff! Thank you for reading and hope you're enjoying it so far.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been a month since that fateful day when Will and Hannibal had been reborn by the sea. Will’s recovery had been going well, the only thing causing him any distress being the tightness of the wound to his cheek which was now forming a fresh pink scar. Hannibal kept lecturing him to put specific creams on it to minimise the scarring as much as possible. Chiyoh had left them around a week after Hannibal woke up much to Will’s unease. It wasn’t that Will particularly held a fondness for the woman, it was because it then left the two men alone.</p><p>Will acknowledged to himself that when they killed the Red Dragon together he had given Hannibal the gift he had been waiting so long for, Will’s embrace of the darkness which he fought so long to contain. The acceptance and sharing of their nature. And Will did accept it, he no longer cowered at the immorality. He meant what he said to Hannibal on the cliffside. It truly was beautiful.</p><p>That wasn’t the part of Will that harboured uncertainty. Currently Will was pondering over where the two men stood in relation to one another. They had shared the most intimate moment of his life as they embraced over the bluff, wearing the blood of their enemy. Will shook his head slightly as he turned his attention to washing the dishes from their dinner. Hannibal was still bed ridden and this left Will with sole ownership of the domestic tasks, including cooking, much to Hannibal’s amusement and Will’s dismay.</p><p>“I suggest we should consider moving location soon.” Hannibal’s voice shocked Will leading him to drop a plate into the dish washing water, soaking his t-shirt as a result. Will sighed and tried to pat the splashed area with a dry cloth as the material clung to his stomach uncomfortably.</p><p>“You should be in bed.” Will scolded keeping his eyes on his task.</p><p>“I am feeling better by the day,” Hannibal shrugged off the concern.</p><p>Will threw the cloth aside and stomped to his bedroom down the hallway, deciding a fresh shirt would be a better option than drying out the new one. Hannibal followed, standing in the doorway.</p><p>Will, choosing to ignore his presence, pulled off his t-shirt in one motion and threw it towards the laundry pile in the corner of his room. Hannibal slightly frowned at the messy habit. Hannibal stood, admiring the man’s back muscles as Will rummaged around his drawers for a new shirt. Will felt the eyes on him and turned quickly.</p><p>“Hannibal, I -“ Will started to talk, still avoiding the other mans gaze.</p><p>“Will,” Hannibal sighed stepping forward slowly.</p><p>Will quickly pulled on a t-shirt in a panicked haste and squeezed past Hannibal though the doorway to return to the kitchen. Will ran a shaky hand through his hair. He didn’t know how to even start having that conversation. Aside from the laughable notion that Hannibal would entertain the mundane ‘what are we’ discussion, Will wasn’t sure he was ready for that as he himself was unsure of what they were, of what he wanted. Will couldn’t deny the love Hannibal had for Will. It took him long enough to realise the full nature of it, and his love was quite frankly terrifying. It was all consuming. Will also felt a pit of uncertainty in the bottom of his stomach.</p><p>The few relationships Will had engaged in were exclusively with women, as were the fleeting moments of attraction or few crushes he had experienced. By that logic, he reasoned that he must be straight. But that logic didn’t explain the warmth Will felt when Hannibal listened to him, understood him and all his facets. That logic didn’t explain why he wanted to run away with Hannibal, despite knowing he was a murderer, up until the point when he left Will in his own blood after gutting him in Hannibal’s kitchen. It didn’t explain the vivid dreams of him that resulted in numerous ashamed cold showers in the mornings and desperate attempts to think of anything but the image of Hannibal thoroughly taking him in all manner of ways and positions.</p><p>That logic didn’t explain the fact that on that cliff he felt an urgent need to kiss Hannibal.</p><p>Hannibal stood silently appraising Will’s anxious pacing in the kitchen. Hannibal had accepted that their path after the fall would not be an easy one. It would be full of trepidation on Will’s part.</p><p>“Will?” Hannibal asked softly.</p><p>Avoiding eye contact Will continued their conversation from before, “The FBI took your safe houses, the one in Copenhagen and the one in Paris.”</p><p>“Only the two?” Hannibal gave him a smirk.</p><p>“Hannibal,” Will shook his head, a small smile forming on his lips.</p><p>“Come on Will,” Hannibal teased, busing himself with drying up the utensils Will had washed prior. “I’ll let you have a guess, think extradition laws.”</p><p>“God Hannibal, I don’t know. I’ve never had to think what I would do if I were on the lam!”</p><p>Hannibal waited patiently, enjoying the game he had created for his amusement.</p><p>“Russia. Maldives. Cuba.”</p><p>Hannibal raised a thin eyebrow at that.</p><p>“Cuba, really Hannibal?” Will returned to washing up, standing next to Hannibal. He was glad that the tension from before had dissipated.</p><p>“Art, sun, music, the cuisine. Why not, Will?”</p><p>Will shook his head in disbelief at the man. “I have one condition.”</p><p>“We have dinner with an old friend first?”</p><p>“Yes,” Will’s eyes darkened, finally meeting Hannibal’s gaze.</p><p>Hannibal felt a surge of affection at this display.</p><p>“I have just the recipe in mind.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two months had passed since Alex received the initial call from Jack. Although she still haunted herself with ‘what if’s’ whenever she saw that the manhunt continued, she had managed to compartmentalise it and threw herself back into her normal routine. That was until one Friday afternoon at work.</p>
<p>“Hi Alex!”</p>
<p>“Hey, Barry. How are you?” Alex smiled at the delivery man as he was conducting the mail rounds in the FBI office.</p>
<p>“Eh not too bad, hoping to catch the game this weekend with my son. So looking forward to that!” Barry replied, thumbing through pieces of mail casually.</p>
<p>“Ah, the …Vipers?” Alex asked unsure.</p>
<p>He laughed at her attempt to discuss football, “Close, Cobras.”</p>
<p>She chuckled and shrugged her shoulders, “I tried!”</p>
<p>Alex made her way pass him, cradling the freshly made cup of coffee she had just made from the staff kitchen. “Well, have a good day!”</p>
<p>“You too,” Barry clicked his fingers. “Oh, I have a package for you! Give me two-seconds, it’ll save me from putting it in your pigeon hole."</p>
<p>“Of course,” Alex responded, slightly surprised. The report she was expecting from the Chicago incident wouldn’t be due until next week. ‘Maybe they were ahead for once’ Alex mused.</p>
<p>“There you go,” Barry handed over a heavy brown paper package.</p>
<p>Even more confused, Alex muttered thanks and walked back her desk. She sat down in her office chair and was just about to open the mysterious package when one of the team told her they were being called to a meeting. And so, Alex left her coffee and mail to sit in a board room for the next three hours.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After the meeting, Alex returned to her desk. She had become so engrossed in finalising her case notes that she didn’t notice the office floor becoming almost empty as the afternoon turned into evening. The young agent ran her hands over her face in exhaustion and pulled her phone out of her trouser pocket, composing a quick apology and ‘don’t wait up' message to Emma. It was going to be a long night.</p>
<p>Alex started craving some caffeine to see her through and went to grab a soda from the vending machine located on the floor above. When she sat back down at her desk she noticed the package she had abandoned in haste earlier. Curiosity reignited, Alex tore open the packaging.</p>
<p>A plain box. How strange.</p>
<p>Alex would have been worried about the contents of it, if not for the screening process she knew the organisation completed on all incoming mail.</p>
<p>As she lifted the lid her heart caught in her throat.</p>
<p>An envelope with her name in perfect cursive sat on top of a book. An incredibly familiar book. A book Alex hadn’t seen in two years since she left it at Baltimore State Hospital.</p>
<p>Alex could hear her pulse throbbing in her ears. A small part of her had been expecting it. For him to make contact. She had tried to ignore that feeling, opting not to dwell on that topic for too long.</p>
<p>She carefully lifted the book and letter out of the box as if they were about to burst into flames in front of her very eyes. Attention now focused on the envelope, Alex slowly opened the paper. In it a handwritten note, or rather an invitation:</p>
<p>
  <em>You are cordially invited to dinner please arrive for 8pm. Dinner will be served promptly.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>HL &amp; WG</em>
</p>
<p>Below that was an address, it was about forty minutes away from the office block. Alex checked her watch. It was about seven-thirty. Without thinking, she grabbed her jacket in haste and ran through the building.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The young woman fumbled to retrieve the car keys from her pocket, attempting to calm herself with a deep breath. Then she got behind the wheel of the car.</p>
<p>Alex zoomed out of the parking lot, narrowly missing a car as she turned onto the road. She barely noticed, too preoccupied with making sure she was on time. There had to be a reason she had been invited.</p>
<p>‘God knows the scene I could be walking into’ She shook the thought, knowing regardless it wouldn’t make a difference. She had to go, to see them both, to understand.</p>
<p>Alex skipped a light about to turn red, which earned her a few horns blaring angrily.</p>
<p>The traffic was starting to pile up in front of her, residual build up from the rush hour rush exiting the city. Alex tapped her fingers on the steering wheel impatiently.</p>
<p>Looking down at the clock on the dashboard, her anxiety heightened when it read ‘7:54pm’.She couldn’t be late. He despised that.</p>
<p>In the traffic jam Alex pulled up a map on her phone, she was a couple of streets away. Taking a chance, she wove through the cars and parked on a side street. The woman quickly exited her car and proceeded to run to the address, ignoring the strange looks people on the street were giving her.</p>
<p>Checking her watch as she sprinted into the wealthy neighbourhood, she had about two minutes to find the house. Panting and flustered her eyes scanned for the right property. Alex breathed a sigh of relief when she found it and walked up a well-kept garden path to a modern house that exuded luxury. Her agent brain kicked into gear as she scanned the surroundings, noting that there was an absence of a car on the driveway. That suggested there would not be a quick getaway, so perhaps the carnage hadn’t occurred just yet.</p>
<p>Alex knocked heavily on the door. A few moments passed, Alex’s fingers nervously tangled with a loose thread inside her coat pocket. The door opened.</p>
<p>There, without a care in the world, stood Hannibal Lecter.</p>
<p>“Good evening Alexandra, thank you for joining us this evening.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alex didn’t utter a word as Hannibal welcomed her into the house, stopping to slip the coat from her body, and placed a firm hand directly on her shoulder that guided her through to the dining room. A blonde woman sat at the head of one side of the dark mahogany table, she gave Alex a sneering glance before returning to her stoic expression, refusing to meet Hannibal’s eyes as he introduced the two.</p>
<p>“Alexandra, this is an old colleague of mine, Doctor Bedelia du Maurier. Bedelia, this is FBI agent Alexandra Taylor.” He spoke as if he were greeting two friends at a dinner party, that being a less macabre one.</p>
<p>Bedelia’s eyes snapped to the young woman. “Jack Crawford’s last hope, or perhaps latest failure since you're here observing.”</p>
<p>“Now, now Bedelia, your envy is showing.” A familiar sarcastic voice joined in the conversation.</p>
<p>“Will,” Alex whispered as the man walked into the room with a bottle of wine. He turned his head towards the woman he had watched grow into a formidable force from a far. His green eyes softened slightly from their cold expression.</p>
<p>“Envy!” Bedelia riled up, interrupting the reunion. “Pray tell Will Graham, how on earth I would be envious?”</p>
<p>“Well, Alex has functioning use her legs at this very moment in time, and that’s just the first thing that springs to mind.” Will quipped back at the woman, his own fury displayed in the nastiness of his voice. Only then did Alex notice the woman’s right leg, the slit in her dress displayed the neatly wrapped in bandage covering the midway thigh where the leg had been amputated. By the look on Bedelia’s face at Will’s comment this was a very recent occurrence. Alex presumed this was by the two men in the room and was disgusted in herself when she found little remorse for the woman she had just met.</p>
<p>“What lovely legs they are.” Hannibal tried to diffuse the tension slightly, smiling gently at Alex who met his eyes and raised one eyebrow at the cheap flirtation. He simply chuckled at the fact that she was standing in a room with two killers and the only visible umbrage she had taken was to the thinly veiled charm.</p>
<p>“I am going to plate up dinner,” Hannibal Lecter walked gracefully across the room, exiting for the kitchen. “Will, would you be so kind as to create a place setting for our mutual friend?”</p>
<p>Will acquiesced, placing cutlery in the correct position, feeling perturbed as to how his ex-student and Hannibal Lecter had a history.</p>
<p>Alex picked up on his unease and spoke as Will gathered another chair, “There was a case a while back. I had to gather information from him.”</p>
<p>She felt a need to clarify their dynamic was borne out of necessity rather than choice. A small part of her disputed this, reminding herself of the last time she saw Hannibal and the fact that here she stood of her own accord in his presence, at his dining table of all places.</p>
<p>“Jack sent you to him?” Will frowned, motioning for her to sit down as he took his place opposite her, leaving the other head of the table for Hannibal.</p>
<p>“Yes,” she confirmed in a small voice.</p>
<p>“Did you ever wonder why you? Out of all the agents, of those with more experience, of those who specialised in psychopathology?” Will poured the wine out.</p>
<p>“Everyday.”</p>
<p>“And?” Will met her eyes, keen for her response.</p>
<p>“I always stopped myself before I found the answer.” Alex sighed deeply.</p>
<p>Will knew the answer, he had fought the darkness in himself before the fall. “Because you knew you wouldn’t like what you found, what it said about you.”</p>
<p>Alex avoided his gaze and took a deep swig of the red wine placed in front of her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex sat there as the reality of the situation sank in. Her body refused to move, she stared straight ahead, past Will Graham’s head. Why didn’t she call for back up, the moment she had the address. ‘<em>You know why</em>’ her conscience taunted her. She wanted to see them both, one last time. She wanted to know just what was happening without the fanfare of police sirens, court rooms and tape recordings. Alex knew that the moment that occurred, she would have lost her chance, the barriers would be up. There would be no Will and Hannibal. There would only be the crazy ex-FBI profiler and his presumed cannibal lover.</p>
<p>“Would you like to do the honours Will?” Hannibal interrupted her thoughts, and Will started to slice the aromatic joint in the centre of the table.</p>
<p>Hannibal delicately served the meat onto her plate. Alex made no motion, no indication to acknowledge their closeness. She stole a glance at Bedelia who looked as though she was either going to pass out or vomit violently all over the food. It confirmed Alex’s suspicions.</p>
<p>Hannibal and Will had taken her leg, and put it to another use, one that they found more fitting to match how they viewed her. They saw her as rude, and Alex knew in great detail the abominable things Hannibal the Cannibal did to those he found impolite.</p>
<p>Answering the devil’s call she tentatively picked up her cutlery, limbs feeling heavy as she scraped them across the china plate. As Alex brought the meat to her lips a curiosity sparked through her.She chewed, savoured, and then swallowed audibly.</p>
<p>Slowly she turned her head towards Hannibal seated on her left. He had a look of curiosity and satisfaction, intrigued by her reaction he titled his head ever so slightly.</p>
<p>Alex met his eyes, both equalling in their dark fascination at the taboo of the act she had just committed, “It’s delicious, thank you.”</p>
<p>The clanging of cutlery broke through the tension. As the three resumed eating. The silence was far from uncomfortable, it was a sense of savouring the food.</p>
<p>“If you don’t eat your dinner Bedelia, you won’t get to enjoy the dessert.” Will mocked her, making eye contact with the woman as he indulged on another mouthful.</p>
<p>Bedelia’s right eye twitched slightly and picked up a fork with shaking hand.</p>
<p>Hannibal beamed at them all and continued indulging in his meal.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When the dinner was finished, the two men cleared away the plates and cutlery from the table.</p>
<p>“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” Bedelia hissed at Alex. The agent remained silent, quietly contemplating that statement.</p>
<p>“They took a risk involving you. You could have run off to Jack Crawford, told him! Although, perhaps Hannibal knew you wouldn’t. After all you do seem to be cut from the same cloth.”</p>
<p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alex couldn’t refrain from rising to the bait.</p>
<p>“You see the way he looks at you, as though you are his next project. He’s manipulated Will Graham, why not look for another to add to his twisted idea of-“ Bedelia's sentence was cut off.</p>
<p>“Now Bedelia, I’m almost offended. You didn’t say a word at dinner and the moment Will and I leave the room you become lively.” Hannibal returned to the room and took his place at the table once again.</p>
<p>Will followed, refusing to meet Alex’s eyes, and lifted Bedelia into his arms. Carrying her off to some unknown part of the house. Alex should have felt some concern at that, and yet she didn’t.</p>
<p>“She’s right, you know.” Hannibal spoke into the room. Chills formed on Alex’s forearms as she realised they were alone. No plastic wall to shield her this time.</p>
<p>“What part?” She responded, hating how weak her voice sounded.</p>
<p>“We are cut from the same cloth aren’t we. I saw it back then and given a very recent revelation from our mutual friend Will, my suspicions have been confirmed.” Hannibal swirled his wine glass nonchalantly.</p>
<p>“Just ask.” The agent spat out. She wasn’t going to be played with,not on this matter.</p>
<p>“Did it feel good to kill them Alexandra?”</p>
<p>“I did what I had to,” Alex gritted her teeth at the reminder of the incident that left her marked to this day.</p>
<p>“You survived,” Hannibal said blankly. “That’s what you were told. You didn’t tell them everything, did you? You didn’t tell them how it felt good to take ownership of the situation, about how you gave them more purpose in death than in life.”</p>
<p>“They can’t harm anyone there.” She agreed, tears starting to streak her cheeks.</p>
<p>“I once told Will that doing bad things to bad people makes us feel good. I reiterate that same statement to you.” He put a hand over hers, encouraging her to look in his dark eyes.</p>
<p>“I’m not like you.” She whispered, shaking her head lightly, and slipped her hand from his grasp.</p>
<p>“Then why are you here Alexandra?” Hannibal’s tone became cold, pointing out the fact that she sat here with the FBI’s most wanted fugitive.</p>
<p>“I don’t know.”</p>
<p>“You do.”</p>
<p>Hannibal stood up gracefully and produced a syringe from his pocket before Alex had a chance to register the movement. He pushed a needle into the side of her neck, accurately administering the drug to her bloodstream, then removed it.</p>
<p>Alex slowly raised her hand to her neck and looked up at the man with a stunned expression.</p>
<p>“You’re just not ready to admit it yet. When you are, we’ll come together again” Hannibal’s promise permeated through the darkness as Alex’s vision cut to black.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Alexandra Taylor awoke it was in the back of an ambulance. She sat up abruptly and stared out of the open back doors of the vehicle. Flashing lights and FBI agents littered the front garden of the house of horror she had walked into hours before.</p>
<p>“You should lie back down.” A paramedic instructed. Alex ignored the warning as she was too focused on the large man with a thunderous look now stepping towards her.</p>
<p>“Jack,” Alex greeted him in a tired tone as he entered the vehicle. Her voice sounded thick from being in an induced state of unconsciousness and her limbs felt heavy.</p>
<p>“Out.” He nearly shouted at the medical workers. They obliged the demand very quickly knowing this was a person of importance and it would be more than their job was worth to put up a fight.</p>
<p>Jack Crawford slammed the vehicle doors shut, leaving him and Alex alone. He slumped into the uncomfortable seat next to the bed where Alex lay and ran a large hand over his face. The stress radiated off the man who was so close to catching the wanted killers.</p>
<p>“You want to tell me why you walked into dinner with Hannibal Lecter alone?” His voice didn't hide his frustration.</p>
<p>“I didn’t know it was him Jack. I got a tip and followed it up. I thought it would just be a paranoid caller thinking they saw something that they didn’t. You know how it is.” Alex lied with worrying ease.</p>
<p>She prayed they hadn’t found her car with the handwritten invitation lying in it. The book currently sitting on her desk at work couldn’t be traced back to Hannibal, but that invitation was nothing but solid evidence against her story.</p>
<p>The logical part of Alex told herself that she was lying to cover up the massive mistake she had made. The young woman would be in the hottest of hot water for charging onto a scene without any form of back up. The small, dark part of her mind refuted this, knowing it was because she didn’t want Jack clocking onto the fact that she wanted to meet the two, and not necessarily bring them in. Alex quietened that voice in her mind and elected for the first excuse.</p>
<p>“How did you get here? We couldn’t see your car.” Jack started the interrogation, with some concern that the agent had been against her will.</p>
<p>“It’s a few blocks over, I’ll ask Em to get it and take it home.” She did just that, shooting over a text then asking for her partner to pick it up. Her girlfriend replied that it was no problem and asked whether she okay as it was late. Alex glanced at the digital clock on her phone.10pm it read.</p>
<p>
  <em>‘Yeah just held up at a scene, it’s by the bakery on fifth. Yes, I was eating late night donuts before you say anything.’ - Alex</em>
</p>
<p>Another lie to add to the growing list.</p>
<p>
  <em>‘Okay, I’ll get a taxi there and grab it now. You’ll need it in the morning.’ - Em</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘Thank you, I owe you…lots’ - Alex</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘Yeah you do!’ - Em</em>
</p>
<p>“So, what do you remember?” Jack continued, not letting up as he had the closest lead to Hannibal Lecter in front of him.</p>
<p>“Not much Jack,” Alex told a falsehood yet again. In actuality she remembered everything up until Hannibal jabbed her full of god knows what. She didn’t want Jack privy to that conversation. It felt personal and Alex didn’t fancy it being splashed across pages of the inevitable lengthy report that would be written.</p>
<p>“Hannibal and Will were both there. It’s blurry. A woman named Bedelia du Maurier…I remember her being quite out of it.” She gave him vague details, just enough.</p>
<p>“Yes, this is her house.” Jack told her coldly.</p>
<p>“Have you spoken to her?” Alex replied concerned, managing to keep the nerves from her voice as the woman in question could give her game away. This was becoming too messy, but still Alex ploughed on with her story.</p>
<p>“No, she wasn’t present when we turned up.” An invisible sigh of relief.</p>
<p>“Meaning?” Alex prompted her old mentor.</p>
<p>“Meaning Hannibal goddamn Lecter kidnapped her.” Jack raised his voice in ire at the helplessness of the situation. Not only had he lost the two wanted men, but another innocent.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry Jack.” Alex shook her head in disbelief and gave a convincing look of defeat. “If I had-“</p>
<p>“You weren’t to know.” Jack interrupted, “Are you okay?”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry about me Jack.”</p>
<p>“I do. I worry,” Jack Crawford’s expression turned soft, indicating he was speaking to her as a friend. “Seeing them both couldn’t have been easy.”</p>
<p>“Maybe it’s a blessing I can’t remember it.” Alex commented, conveying what she hoped to be sadness.</p>
<p>“I want you to see an old colleague of mine. She’s a psychiatrist.”</p>
<p>Alex opened her mouth to protest.</p>
<p>“A good one. I insist.” Jack asserted.</p>
<p>“I don’t know if you can Jack.” Alex snarked back, referring to the fact that she did not technically work for the Head of Behavioural Science.</p>
<p>“Kade Purnell has agreed to your transfer under the condition of psychiatric evaluation.”</p>
<p>“What transfer?” The younger agent exclaimed, doing little to hide her outrage at Jack’s words.</p>
<p>“Alex, we’re desperate.” Jack sighed and folded his hands uncomfortably. He didn’t really desire Alex on the case, but she was the best agent they had on a case like this, a case involving Graham and Lecter. So, his conscience on that matter was quieted by the logic. The had to catch them.</p>
<p>“How dare you undermine me like that Jack!”</p>
<p>A paramedic knocked on the door and opened it shyly, “We should really be going now.”</p>
<p>“Of course.” Jack moved out, relieved at the impeccable timing of the interruption. Alex attempted to follow, rising from the bed where she sat. A gloved hand stopped her for moving any further.</p>
<p>“We think it’s best to do some blood work and give you a full assessment. Just procedure for these things,” The paramedic cowered slightly under Alex’s hard stare. “You know how the paperwork is.”</p>
<p>Alex gave a loud huff and laid back onto the bed.</p>
<p>“I’ll have someone pick you up.” Jack told her before they closed the doors.</p>
<p>“Don’t bother.” She snapped back.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“You want to explain to me why I had to first get a taxi at ten o’clock on a weeknight to collect your car in town and then pick you up from the hospital at midnight.” Emma spoke loudly as Alex opened the car door.</p>
<p>“Jack hasn’t spoken to you?” Alex sat in the passenger seat and stared out the front windscreen.</p>
<p>“No.” Her girlfriend became concerned. There was only one reason why Jack Crawford would be involved and she prayed it wasn’t that. “You saw him.”</p>
<p>Alex knew her girlfriend wasn’t referring to the FBI colleague she had just mentioned. The brunet simply nodded her head. In her periphery she could see Emma eyes widen.</p>
<p>“And Will.” Alex added, fiddling with a stray thread on her jacket.</p>
<p>“Shit.” Emma exhaled and gave her partner a worried look. Alex wouldn’t meet her eyes.</p>
<p>“Are you -“</p>
<p>“Doctors said I’m fine.” Alex cut her off coldly.</p>
<p>“That’s not what I meant.”</p>
<p>“I know.”</p>
<p>Emma started the car, knowing she wouldn’t get anymore out of Alex. Not until she was ready. It stayed quiet throughout their journey home with nothing but the background noise of the radio filling the void.</p>
<p>“So, you lied to me. About where you were,” Emma accused as she pulled into the driveway.</p>
<p>Alex closed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair in frustration.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” She bit her bottom lip, an old nervous habit, and nodded slowly.</p>
<p>Emma shut off the car engine and sighed loudly, “We don’t do that.”</p>
<p>“What other choice did I have. I couldn’t send you a message explaining it all -“</p>
<p>“You haven’t explained it Alex! All you’ve done is confirmed that goddamn psychopath has threatened you.”</p>
<p>“He didn’t threaten me.” Alex spoke quietly, not wanting to have this conversation.</p>
<p>“Didn’t threat - are you fucking serious right now?” Emma harshly whispered.</p>
<p>“He didn’t.”</p>
<p>“So what you had dinner and he let you walk away?” The woman said sarcastically.</p>
<p>“Close, I don’t remember eating although forensics said they found evidence to suggest otherwise. He drugged me, hence the hospital visit, they wanted to do blood work and keep me under observation while it wore off. He didn’t threaten or harm me. I don’t think Will would have stood for that either.”</p>
<p>“Alex, he would’ve fed you-” Her girlfriend’s stopped herself before saying the awful words, once spoken they would become real. “You need to get some help for this, you can’t just ignore it.”</p>
<p>“Jack wants me to see a psychiatrist before I start working for him.” Alex finally looked her partner in the eye, ready to face the fury at the awful decision. Shock and then horror passed over Emma’s face. Her mouth opened and closed before she decided there was nothing she could possibly say without really going off on a tirade that neither of them had the energy for. Emma roughly opened the car door and slammed it shut before entering the house.</p>
<p>Alex stayed in the passenger seat for a moment. She leant her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes. It was a bad call. Everyone knew it. She was too close to them both. And yet, here they all were, about to go through with it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry I haven't updated in ages, there will probably be slow updates for a while as I'm still working on it. I'm not 100% happy with the chapter, but I kept writing and re-writing it and I think it's in the best place it can be to further the story. <br/>Also, please let me know if you would like anything tagged! I'm not great at tagging but I know they are important so will be updating them as I go along to err on the side of caution.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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